Night Light
by ShieldAndArmor
Summary: A mission gone wrong leaves Steve shaken up and afraid of the dark. Tony is there to support him, in ways even he doesn't know. The experience deepens their relationship.


Night Light

Another lab- this one hidden in an inconspicuous warehouse outside of the city. How many had they busted this month? This one had to be the third, at least. The team was small this time: a strike force consisting of Captain America and the Black Widow. Iron man was relegated to back-up: his repulsor beams deemed too destructive for the initial sweep. Normally SHIELD wouldn't have bothered to call in Tony Stark for such a small stealth mission- Iron Man tended to be too loud and too flashy- but they needed as much evidence as possible if they were to figure out who- or what- was behind a dangerous new drug on the market. That was the main reason Tony was on the roster at all: to figure out what evidence was useful, and to help Widow crack any encryptions protecting the computers.

The building wasn't heavily guarded. There were only a couple of hired guns standing outside the gates to the complex, and they were easy enough to take out. Once he and Widow had breached the parameter, Steve registered Black Widow's cool voice crackling over the intercom in his ear.

"Initializing," she said calmly, shifting her body weight and dropping down to one knee. She slipped a glossy black device from her boot, and pressed her thumb onto the smooth screen. A blue circle swirled around her thumb and then disappeared. A small chirp notified them of a successful startup, and within a few seconds their traps went off and the power to the building went out. All of the buildings in the area went dark, as well as communications and surveillance. Better to hit them hard and fast. Widow picked herself up and she and Steve broke out into a swift run.

With the security system disabled, a swift kick from Captain America was all that was needed to crumple the door. The goons inside were prepared for them however, guns poised in the darkness. Steve's eyes adjusted the fastest, allowing him to recover in enough time to grab Widow and cover them both with his shield. Bullets ricocheted off of his shield as he and Widow found cover behind a lab bench. Widow then ditched Steve to take out the nearest hostile, and Steve launched his shield as a projectile, knocking out the henchmen carrying a CZ Scorpion submachine gun. Steve may despise guns, but it would be foolish to not know his enemy.

With the heavy hitter knocked out, Steve and the Widow made short work of the rest of the room. There were two options for advancement into the building: a door leading into the back room, and a trapdoor leading into the basement- a basement probably filled with the cooking supplies. Widow and Steve exchanged a quick glance, and in silent agreement, Agent Romanov headed towards the back room, and Steve popped the trapdoor.

It was dark as he descended, and when the trapdoor closed behind him, the passage was pitch black to human eyes. Even though the serum granted him enhanced eyesight, it was still difficult for Steve to distinguish anything on the basement floor. As he reached for a small flare in his utility belt, someone took him by surprise, jamming two small needles into the side of his neck. Steve yelped in pain, grabbed and flung the person into a wall, where they crumpled unconscious. Steve angrily ripped out the needles in his neck, pausing as he realized they were syringes. Worse, spent syringes. He dropped them, vision swimming.

At first he wasn't worried. His super metabolism usually just sucked the fun out of drinking, but it was useful in situations like this. Then his vision flickered out, and his muscles tensed and locked. He couldn't move, and a static tingling crawled across his brain. How much did they inject me with? He didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to feel genuine panic. It had been so long since something had affected him like this, and he had almost forgot it was possible. Must have been concentrated, he decided.

He stood there for what must have only been a few minutes, trying his best to steady his breathing. It was already fading from his system, and he was able to slowly move his body, though somewhat painfully.

A loud whine, followed by an earth-shaking boom, signaled Tony's arrival onto the scene. After a few minutes of complete chaos, the trap door was ripped completely off of its hinges and flung backwards, replaced by the silhouette of a hovering Iron Man. The sudden flood of light struck Steve's oversensitive eyes; he cringed and stumbled forward unintentionally.

Tony's helmet lifted up, revealing his bearded face. He looked like he was having far too much fun for such a serious mission. "All this excitement making you weak in the knees, Cap?" He called out jauntily. Steve looked up, and closed his eyes against the shine.

His jaw was locked. "T-tony." He managed to stutter out, the panic clear in his voice.

Tony sobered immediately and glided down to Steve, noting the spent syringes on the ground. He reached out slowly, and gently cupped Steve's chin. Turning Steve's head slowly from side to side, Tony examined him.

"Other symptoms? Besides light sensitivity and clenching."

"Mind. P-prickling. Can't move my body. M-muscle tension. Vertigo. My eyes." Steve replied.

Tony suddenly smiled, as if amused by his own joke. "Seems like you have been having a little too much fun down here Captain." He let go to pop open a compartment in his suit. Steve lurched forward, catching himself on Tony's gauntlet. His vision swam a little, eyes dilating. Tony frowned while he lowered Steve to the floor. "Hey there, trying to hold out for a new car? Breathe for me Cap." Steve released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. "That's it, you're OK. Awesome. Perfect. Open up your mouth?" Steve gave him a quick questioning look, but complied. Tony crammed two pieces of gum in his mouth, "Chew that, it helps with the clenching."

They stay like that for a bit: Steve hanging off Tony's arm, the two of them bathed in the dim light of the arc reactor. Steve focused mostly on breathing, remembering the gum in his mouth whenever his jaw clenched painfully against the shivers that wracked his body. His temperature swung wildly from hot to cold. Tony fed him some water; God knew where he got it, but drinking it felt amazing.

Fifteen minutes later, and Steve was approaching sober. Tony patted him on the cheek, grinning. "Congrats Cap, I believe you've just experienced your first recreational drug trip." Steve's mouth opened a bit, and he shot Tony a look of bewilderment. "And without me, too." Tony played up the drama, feigning offense. "Honestly I'm a little hurt. Partying with some random dude in a basement instead of your buddy." Tony extended a hand to the unconscious drug lord on the floor.

Despite himself, Steve smiled. "He was bringing down the fun. Maybe next time, Stark."

"Definitely next time. But with the amount of goods needed to get you going, it might be hard for even me to get that party started." Tony bent down and picked up the empty syringes on the floor, whistling. "Damn Captain, both of these full?"

"I think so, yes. It's almost out of my system though. Collect what you need and let's regroup with Romanov."

—

Steve was still awake. It was early morning, 0320 by his count. He'd tried sleeping, but as much as he hated to admit it, the drugs had got to him. Just sitting in the dark was enough to bring back flash backs of what happened earlier. So he had restlessly laid in bed, trying to sketch, but ultimately not in the mood for it. Maybe a book would help.

Steve picked himself out of bed, not bothering to change. His sweatpants, pajama shirt, and slippers were appropriate enough for this time of night.

He didn't expect anyone else in the Avenger's Tower to be up, but he should have known Tony would be awake. Steve walked into the library to find Tony lounging on the chaise, one foot propped up on the short table in front of his seat. Papers and books were strewn about, and Tony was lazily flipping through a roughly stapled manuscript in his hand. He looked up from his reading, not the least bit surprised that Steve had walked in on him.

"A little past your bedtime isn't it Captain? Or were you planning on some company?"

Steve crossed his hands in front of him, and looked briefly to the floor before confronting Tony. "I couldn't sleep. Thought I might try a book."

Tony looked at him for a few beats, and then motioned for Steve to join him on the couch. Steve complied and relaxed into the plush fabric, aware that Tony was still watching him. "Not looking so chipper there Cap."

Steve startled a bit. Tony had the mean talent of reading him like a book. "You could say that."

"Hmmm, let me guess." Tony threaded his fingers together in his lap. "Feeling a little hallow. Jumpy, perhaps? Depressed and you have no idea why."

"Yes." Steve replied, leaving out the bit about being afraid of the dark.

"No worries then, Steve. You're just coming down."

"Coming down?"

"Yes. From the high. Nasty little side effect. Almost makes it not worth it."

"Oh." Steve replied, not quite getting it. "How do you get over it?"

"Me, personally? Or people in general."

"I didn't mean to- imply that you've done this before."

"No, no. You didn't. But you wouldn't be wrong if you had." An acute unease was evident on Tony's face. Steve shifted a little closer, feeling concerned that he had offended his teammate.

"Tony…" Captain began again, but Tony interrupted him.

"Some people just sleep it off, maybe watch movies and binge eat ice cream. Others prefer to be around people. Hang out, spoon, or get intimate. Any of these appeal to you?"

Steve considered it for a moment. One of the options did appeal to him, but it would be horrendously inappropriate. "I don't want to be alone right now. Mind if I keep you company?"

"No, of course not. Stay for however long you need me, and for whatever you need from me."

The intensity in Tony's eyes as he made the offer left Steve feeling abashed. Once again, Tony had read his mind. He didn't say anything, just settled in against Tony's shoulder. The man was warm, and it calmed Steve considerably. Tony went back to reading, and Steve was thankful for his silence.

Steve woke up, his back flush against Tony's chest. Somehow they had fallen asleep, and ended up huddled together on the couch. Steve blushed and considered moving, only to realize that the lights had been turned off. A jolt of fear sheared through him, but the feeling of Tony pressed against his back grounded him significantly. He shifted, leaning on Tony's chest, his head resting in the crook of Tony's shoulder. From there he could see the faint glow of the arc reactor through Tony's thin t-shirt, and it calmed him even more to remember its effect on him in the basement.

Steve closed his eyes and let the gentle radiance lull him quietly to sleep.


End file.
